The Shorter Poems Read Online

then the sonne reneweth his finished course, and the seasonable

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spring refresheth the earth, and the plesaunce thereof being

buried in the sadnesse of the dead winter now worne away,

reliueth. This opinion maynteine the olde Astrologers and

Philosophers, namely the reuerend Andalo, and Macrobius

in his holydayes of Saturne, which accoumpt also was generally

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obserued both of Grecians and Romans. But sauing the leaue

of such learned heads, we mayntaine a custome of coumpting

the seasons from the moneth Ianuary, vpon a more speciall

cause, then the heathen Philosophers euer coulde conceiue,

that is, for the incarnation of our mighty Sauiour and eternall

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redeemer the L. Christ, who as then renewing the state of the

decayed world, and returning the compasse of expired yeres

to theyr former date and first commencement, left to vs his

heires a memoriall of his birth in the ende of the last yeere and

beginning of the next. which reckoning, beside that eternall

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monument of our saluation, leaneth also vppon good proofe

of special iudgement. For albeit that in elder times, when as

yet the coumpt of the yere was not perfected, as afterwarde

it was by Iulius Cæsar, they began to tel the monethes from

Marches beginning, and according to the same God (as is

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sayd in Scripture) comaunded the people of the Iewes to

count the moneth Abib, that which we call March, for the

first moneth, in remembraunce that in that moneth he brought

them out of the land of Ægipt: yet according to tradition of

latter times it hath bene otherwise obserued, both in gouern

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ment of the church, and rule of Mightiest Realmes. For from

Iulius Cæsar who first obserued the leape yeere which he

called Bissextilem Annum, and brought in to a more certain

course the odde wandring dayes which of the Greekes were

called πεβανοντες. of the Romanes intercalares (for in

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such matter of learning I am forced to vse the termes of the

learned) the monethes haue bene nombred xij. which in the

first ordinaunce of Romulus were but tenne, counting but

CCCiiij. dayes in euery yeare, and beginning with March.

But Numa Pompilius, who was the father of al the Romain

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ceremonies and religion, seeing that reckoning to agree neither

with the course of the sonne, nor of the Moone, therevnto

added two monethes, Ianuary and February: wherin it seem-

eth, that wise king minded vpon good reason to begin the

yeare at Ianuarie, of him therefore so called tanquam Ianua

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anni the gate and entraunce of the yere, or of the name of the

god Ianus, to which god for that the old Paynims attributed

the byrth and beginning of all creatures new comming into

the worlde, it seemeth that he therfore to him assigned the

beginning and first entraunce of the yeare. which account for

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the most part hath hetherto continued. Notwithstanding that

the Ægiptians beginne theyr yeare at September, for that

according to the opinion of the best Rabbins, and very purpose

of the scripture selfe, God made the worlde in that Moneth,

that is called of them Tisri. And therefore he commaunded

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them, to keepe the feast of Pauilions in the end of the yeare,

in the xv. day of the seuenth moneth, which before that time

was the first.

But our Authour respecting nether the subtiltie of thone

parte, nor the antiquitie of thother, thinketh it fittest according

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to the simplicitie of commen vnderstanding, to begin with

Ianuarie, wening it perhaps no decorum, that Shepheard

should be seene in matter of so deepe insight, or canuase a

case of so doubtful iudgment. So therefore beginneth he, and

so continueth he throughout.

A shepeheards boye (no better doe him call)

when Winters wastful spight was almost spent,

All in a sunneshine day, as did befall,

Led forth his flock, that had bene long ypent.

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So faynt they woxe, and feeble in the folde,

That now vnnethes their feete could them vphold.

All as the Sheepe, such was the shepeheards looke,

For pale and wanne he was, (alas the while,)

May seeme he lovd, or els some care he tooke:

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Well couth he tune his pipe, and frame his stile.

Tho to a hill his faynting flocke he ledde,

And thus him playnd, the while his shepe there fedde.

Ye Gods of loue, that pitie louers payne,

(If any gods the paine of louers pitie:)

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Looke from aboue, where you in ioyes remaine,

And bowe your eares vnto my dolefull dittie.

And Pan thou shepheards God, that once didst loue,

Pitie the paines, that thou thy selfe didst proue.

Thou barrein ground, whome winters wrath hath wasted,

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Art made a myrrhour, to behold my plight:

Whilome thy fresh spring flowrd, and after hasted

Thy sommer prowde with Daffadillies dight.

And now is come thy wynters stormy state,

Thy mantle mard, wherein thou maskedst late.

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Such rage as winters, reigneth in my heart,

My life bloud friesing with vnkindly cold:

Such stormy stoures do breede my balefull smart,

As if my yeare were wast, and woxen old.

And yet alas, but now my spring begonne,

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And yet alas, yt is already donne.

You naked trees, whose shady leaues are lost,

Wherein the byrds were wont to build their bowre:

And now are clothd with mosse and hoary frost,

Instede of bloosmes, wherwith your buds did flowre:

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I see your teares, that from your boughes doe raine,

Whose drops in drery ysicles remaine.

All so my lustfull leafe is drye and sere,

My timely buds with wayling all are wasted:

The blossome, which my braunch of youth did beare,

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With breathed sighes is blowne away, and blasted,

And from mine eyes the drizling teares descend,

As on your boughes the ysicles depend.

Thou feeble flocke, whose fleece is rough and rent,

Whose knees are weake through fast and euill fare:

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Mayst witnesse well by thy ill gouernement,

Thy maysters mind is ouercome with care.

Thou weake, I wanne: thou leane, I quite forlorne:

With mourning pyne I, you with pyning mourne.

A thousand sithes I curse that carefull hower,

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Wherein I longd the neighbour towne to see:

And eke tenne thousand sithes I blesse the stoure,

Wherein I sawe so fayre a sight, as shee.

Yet all for naught: such sight hath bred my bane.

Ah God, that loue should breede both ioy and payne.

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It is not Hobbinol, wherefore I plaine,

Albee my loue he seeke with dayly suit:

His clownish gifts and curtsies I disdaine,

His kiddes, his cracknelles, and his early fruit.

Ah foolish Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene vayne:

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Colin them giues to Rosalind againe.

I loue thilke lasse, (alas why doe I loue?)

And am forlorne, (alas why am I lorne?)

Shee deignes not my good will, but doth reproue,

And of my rurall musick holdeth scorne.

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Shepheards deuise she hateth as the snake,

And laughes the songes, that Colin Clout doth make.

Wherefore my pype, albee rude Pan thou please,

Yet for thou pleasest not, where most I would:

And thou vnlucky Muse, that wontst to ease

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My musing mynd, yet canst not, when thou should:

Both pype and Muse, shall sore the while abye.

So broke his oaten pype, and downe dyd lye.

By that, the welked Phœbus gan availe,

His weary waine, and nowe the frosty Night

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Her mantle black through heauen gan ouerhaile.

Which seene, the pensife boy halfe in despight

Arose, and homeward droue his sonned sheepe,

Whose hanging heads did seeme his carefull case to weepe.

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Colins Embleme.

Anchôra speme.